


Its Eyes

by aupazonne



Category: Cthulhu Mythos - H. P. Lovecraft
Genre: Dreams, M/M, Mental Healt issue, Nigh terror, Nightmares, Porn With Plot, Rape/Non-con Elements, Tentacles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-10
Updated: 2015-08-10
Packaged: 2018-04-13 23:27:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4541496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aupazonne/pseuds/aupazonne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Took a lot of liberty with this one</p><p>Not beta'd</p>
    </blockquote>





	Its Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> Took a lot of liberty with this one
> 
> Not beta'd

\- Water. 

\- That’s what you’re seeing, Mister Lovecraft? 

\- Yes. 

\- Isn’t it a recurrent element in your dreams and nightmares? 

\- Yes… 

The psychiatrist nods and scribbles something on his note pad. Howard sighs. His body feels drained by the lack of sleep… 

\- Very well. It will be all for today. Please take those tonight and come see me tomorrow. I want to try something. Said the psychiatrist. 

\- What is it? Asks the author. 

\- You’ll see. Don’t worry, nothing barbarian, you won’t feel a thing. 

The young man nods and takes the sleeping pills. He pay half of the session, he should have the rest tomorrow. 

Howard gets home without stopping anywhere. He’s not hungry. He’s not thirsty. He gets home and lies on his bed. His cat come near him, he pets it while lying on the bed. His aunt let him keep a cat while he went away. He didn’t want to bother her anymore with his dreams… He should get some sleep. 

Howard closes his eyes, he thinks about what he should eat for dinner as sleep drift him away… He’s startled by a drop of water on his hand. He’s still too much in the haze of sleepiness to react and think correctly. Another. Then he feels like he’s under light rain. Howard tries to wake up. He has to wake up. 

The author opens his eyes, he’s still under the rain in the middle of nowhere. His senses are heightened and he almost heard voices from a faraway city. His skin trickle when he feels something coming… He never saw it properly, but he begins to run. Soon the rain turns into a storm. He reaches a mountain, he turns around, and it’s not the same décor, his dream playing tricks… A shadow comes from the mountain… Some faceless, dark creature pops in his view…Lovecraft takes a loud gasp as it is about to grasp him.  
Lovecraft wakes up and his body startled in sitting position, he cough and pants. He’s sweaty and he shivers from cold even if his house is warm… His cat is in the corner of the room, looking at him suspiciously. He gets out the bed, he didn’t sleep enough, in fact he didn’t even sleep an hour. He fetch a dinner… His heart still beat with full speed. He should take the pills…

\---------------------------

\- You told me, after a dream, you often write, to vent and decompress?

\- Yes. 

\- Does it help?

\- A lot.

\- You published them?

\- Some of them. 

\- Mmmh. Very well. Did the pills help, sir?

\- They help me sleep for two hours… After the dream came back. 

\- Ah. We’ll try an experiment, like I told you yesterday. 

\- What?

\- Hypnosis.

\- … Oh. 

\- Don’t worry, I don’t want you to pay more from now. The hypnoses session is free, if it’s your concern. Now, Mister Lovecraft. I would like you to sit and look at me. 

Howard sits on the couch and look at the psychiatrist.

\- Let’s begin. Put yourself comfortable, close your eyes. Relax yourself, inhale and exhale deeply. Inhale exhale, continue, relax… Concentrate on my voice. To help you relax more, I’ll count to ten to help you enter the hypnotic state. One, you feel a wave of relaxation, concentrate on my voice, two, calmer, more relax, your muscle begins to be heavy, don’t resist, let it… Three, another wave of relaxation, your muscles are heavy, especially the one from your neck, your head… Five, you fee…

Howard lack of sleepiness makes the resistance against the session arduous, but he fall asleep. He doesn’t feel his body fall or being heavy anymore. His eyelids opens… water runs on his cheeks… Oh. He dreams?

Lovecraft looks around, but all seem hazy and slow this time. He’s deep in a forest, one full of birches, spinets and thick firs. Two mountains almost scrapes the sky. He lift his arm and behind his hand a shadow lifts from the mountains… He sees numerous faceless creature coming from the leaves…

\- What do you see?

Howard trembles on his legs and fell like he’s pulled out of… of… 

\- The faceless, black creature, black as ink, a shadow in the distance. 

\- What form is it?

\- I don’t know.

\- Is it the first time you see it.

\- No. 

Howard begins to run. The trees seems to close on him, slowing him down. He ignores the psychiatrist voice somehow talking to him in his dreams… The trees scratch and hit him, he feels the pain, he feels it… He fall on the ground and gasp of pain as his ankle twists in the fall. The minsters are getting too close… it’s..  
Lovecraft shouts and gets up from the couch… He’s back in the hospital with his doctor. He’s sweaty and he pants… He sits down and swipe his forehead with his handkerchief.  
The psychiatrist has one eyebrow lift and notes something. 

\- You shouldn’t have dreamt unless I told you too, you know that? Asks the doctor.

\- I wasn’t in control. Answers Howard. 

\- I know. 

The psychiatrist sighs. He gives more pills to the author. 

\- Come back tomorrow, same hour. If you can, tries to identify the shadow.

Howard gulps and nods. He goes by a park and look around. It’s funny to see all these people having their own life, not noticing the people around them, not questioning who they are, why they’re here… Lovecraft goes to his house and slumps down. He looks at his desk, full of unfinished stories, full of drafts… He smirks, those paper filled in ink are all his patience and determination, perhaps people will look at them one day. He looks in the window. Writing is good, but he does feel kind of lonely. Howard sighs, he was never the best to engage conversation, he never enjoyed… people that much, to be true, but he has nothing to lose.  
Howard gets out, he doesn’t feel like sleeping, he still shivers at the hypnoses session. He writes letters to his family, old friend, an amateur author having read his book… He heard about a club in the library… Well, it’s a start. 

\---------------------------

Howard comes back to his home, talking to one of the member he met. 

\- You’re a true gentlemen, Lovecraft. The way you write, the way you spoke to Lady Watson. And don’t get me started on your novels. I have so many things to say about it, but to summarize, it’s uncharted, I love it. 

\- Thank you, I like yours too. Answers Howard.

Charles laughs and pat Lovecraft arm. The author waves him goodbye before heading home. Charles Ward had fabulous writing. He tells stories from his ancestor and epic drips from his novels and stories. 

Howard feels very heavy, he should sleep now… He looks at his bed as he enter his home. He closes the door and removes his coat. He sits on the bed and lie on his side. He closes his eyes. This time, he feels wind. He doesn’t lift his eyelids, they’re too heavy. He hears something coming, like the wind passing through the trees.  
He frown and tries to open his eyes, but he’s too tired… He jumps when he feels something on arm, like a branch, no it moves, it’s wet… It soaks his shirt, all his arm. He tries to turn and go away from this thing… Why is it wet? …It grips his arm and painfully tighten, Howard cries out and jumps out his bed. It was different.  
The author takes back his breath and look down rub his arm, it feels numb. He looks at the hour… He slept for a long time… He eats what’s left in his pantry before heading for the hospital. 

\- Hello, Mister Lovecraft, how are you? Asks the psychiatrist as he sits on the couch. 

\- I’m fine. Thank you. Answers Howard. 

The author never really enjoyed his meeting with the psychiatrist, all psychiatrist look at clients like they should be locked up, like it’s either untrue what they pass by or untreatable. Hopefully, it’s just nightmares for him… Insomnia he tries to convince himself. 

\- Have you dreamt again? 

\- Yes. There was no rain.

\- Mmh?

\- However something came in contact with me.

\- Ah. Was it the shadow?

\- No.

\- Have seen it?

\- No. 

\- What was it?

\- I don’t’ know. It was wet, it was touching my arm.

\- This one?

\- Yes. 

\- Mmmh. Why are you bruised?

\- What?

Lovecraft looks at his arm, there is indeed a bad bruise a bit higher his wrist. He lifts his sleeves, in fact it goes all over his arm, like the grip he had in his dream. 

\- Are you hurting yourself? 

\- No! What nonsense are you saying? Asks Howard, outraged by the assumption of the doctor.

\- Your arm is almost black! And the shape of it… 

The shape of the bruise was the most ludicrous of it. It was in shape of a spiral, all around his arm, like he stuck his arm inside a spring. It was dark blue, purplish, and clearly new. Howard felt no pain moving his arm, but pressing on it was uncomfortable. 

\- Why have you done such a thing, Mister Lovecraft? 

\- I didn’t.. Begins Howard. 

The author shut his mouth and tries to contain his rage. He should shut, the doctor won’t listen. What kind of explanation could he give him? He slip down his sleeve. 

\- Do you hurt yourself in your dream? 

\- It seems like the only thing logical. Answers Lovecraft, grimly. 

\- I have no idea how you did it, but if you react that badly to your nightmares, I will have to prescribe you a chamber in the mental hospital of Providence. 

Howard almost scream his refusal, but prefer to not make a fool of himself and says nothing. He makes a grimace however and exit the room without a word. 

\-----------------------

Howard gasp opening his eyes, finally waking up. He takes a good breath and clutches his arm. It hurts. He saw the shadow near him in his terror… His bruises hurt… It was tall, and it had wings… He changes of shirt, the last one full of sweat. It’s the middle of the night, he looks in the mirror and clench his teeth to see a shadow behind him. He turns his head toward his cat, it’s sleeping peacefully. The author rationalize and turns around, there is nothing. He should take a walk to calm his nerves. He pets his cat until it purr. Then he puts his coat and goes outside.  
The author walks in the street, ignoring the intrigued look of the passerby. He passes in the main street looking at some shop. In the windows, he sees his reflection. He looks sick. He continue to walk and he looks the books inside a library. Something catches his eyes, there’s something behind him, in the window’s reflection. It’s the shadow, the one with wings. Lovecraft blood freeze and he courageously turns around. There’s nothing, hopefully. He calm his breath and when he looks back, of course, it disappeared. He almost run to his home and jumps on the pills.  
Howard sits in the bed and puts his cat in his laps, he pets it. He looks at his desk and decide to write. He writes about anything that passes his mind. He decides to writes a short novel… He needs a good character… Some character, not just a journal someone alone wrote, well Charles Ward could be good….  
Lovecraft writes for a good hours before the pills have great effect, he falls asleep on his drafts. 

\-------------------------------

Howard can’t open his eyes, even with all his effort. He feels sand under him. He hears some terrifying cackling, cracking, scratching… He gets to move one legs and he feel lighter. Something slither up his leg. He gasps and tries to open his eyes. He feels a hand up his shoulder and his eyes fly open, but he doesn’t wake up, he feel stuck… somehow.  
Lovecraft look at the creature, it’s the dark, faceless creature, talking… its distorted voice echoing like it’s far away. The author’s blood makes three turns in his body before he begins to run away. He doesn’t look where he runs. He’s not in the forest, he’s nowhere, shape change, angles doesn’t make sense, nothing is logical in his fear. Water comes out from the ground. He stops abruptly when he sees the shadow with wings. He back off. He looks at the beast emerging from the darkness. He doesn’t have time to sees it properly, hands dark as ink slams on his mouth, eyes, torso, legs and twist him painfully, in a way that should kill him…  
Lovecraft is jerked awake. His paper flies in all the direction. He almost hyperventilate, everything seems to shake in the room. His cat licks his fur, he calm down, there’s no danger around. He goes in the washroom to wash his face, he has red marks on his face and neck. He doesn’t dare look at the rest of his body… 

\----------------------------

 

\- Almost.  
\- You almost saw it? 

\- Yes. 

\- What happened?

\- The… faceless ones. They stopped me.

The psychiatrist sighs. He notes in his book. Lovecraft sighs, he’s seeing him a lot, but his case deteriorates.

\- You hurt yourself again, Mister Lovecraft. Said the psychiatrist, pointing accusingly his face. 

Howard is tempted to say no. When he did in the beginning of the session, the doctor was about to call the police for an interrogation for assault, but nothing of such has happened. 

\- You’re hurting yourself and you have bad dream, an uneven sleep schedule and you’re isolated. You’re near depression, you have to get out. Said the doctor. 

Howard nods. He looks back in the window.

\- Would you like to try hypnoses again? I’m very curious for you to know about the winged shadow. Ask the doctor. 

Lovecraft nods. He sits on the couch and look at the doctor. This time the doctor gets out a pocket watch. The light reflect on the golden cover. The author glances at it as the doctor makes it oscillate. 

\- Look at it, inhale and exhale, concentrate on it and the sound of my voice. On five, you’ll fall asleep… One, the more the watch balance, the more you are… two, you feel waves of relaxation wash through you at each swing, th…

Howard fell asleep. He feel his body falling back, but he never actually hit anything. He opens his eyes, he looks in the sky. His body defying gravity, floating amidst ruin and leaves. It’s a curious scene. He float down on the ground, water begins to rise and touches his boots. He looks around the trees are now faraway, the ruin are gigantic. They were not mountain, but ruin… The winged one! Howard looks around, trying to see if the faceless monsters will come…

\- Calm yourself, take good breaths… 

Howard execute and the atmosphere drops slightly. He control his breathing and sees the faceless monster at the borders of numerous misshape statues. Countless statue of misshape humans, monsters, monsters... Howard hears a screech, a very cavernous one, like a mountain was screaming… He turns around and sees wings at first. He’s tempted to run away, but he takes his courage in his two hands and decide to face the beast… 

\- Do you see him?

The wings emerge from the darkness, green as oxidized copper, scarred, dripping water droplets. Lovecraft feels a sense of dread invade him, his legs begins to shake slightly. He clenches his teeth. He shivers when he hears the dark faceless monsters screeching a name in a song… something sinister, maddening…

\- Howard… What does it look like? 

\- I-I don’t want too...

\- You can do it, what does it look like?

The head of the creatures emerges from the darkness, the head of a cuttlefish with sharp looking tentacles, slimy and darker green. His at least the size of a building, his step making the floor shakes, but as he get near, his height diminish, it doesn’t care for the angle, for the soil, the water running out on him, his body seems to be carved from a marble block, green, bulky, the legs are huge and the feet looks like claws, the hands are disproportionate and look like he could hold many cars in them. But its eyes… It looks like pits of madness, red as blood and scrutinizing the deepness of his soul, feeding on his sins…  
Lovecraft shouts in terror at the tops of his lungs. He feels like flying when the beast lift his hand to catch him… 

\- MISTER LOVECRAFT! 

Howard slams his hand on the wall, he takes a good breath… He’s in the room with the psychiatrist… He’s on his knees in the corner of the room… How did he get there? 

\- I think we’ll stop here.

\- W-what..? Begins Howard.

\- You screamed like you saw the devil and ran, you knocked down chairs and the vase. You’ll come back in two days. I’m prescribing you something heavier. Said the doctor. 

Howard gulps and nods. The image of the beast still haunt him… Its eyes. Its eyes…. Madness, he brushed madness. Its eyes… Lovecraft stops thinking about, his heart race fast. He gets out and breathe fresh air… He’s still too shocked to be able to think properly, his hands shake slightly… 

Once he gets home, he pets his cat, he goes in his pyjama. Then he writes, he writes… He decides to writes about the winged creature… What name such madness should have, what could grasp the terror? The faceless monsters’ chant… they were singing… Klutlhu? Chluchu? Cthulhu… It was that. He writes down the name of insanity itself. Just thinking about it makes him shiver… He goes in his bathroom to wash his sweaty face and when he looks at the mirror, it’s behind him. Lovecraft faints. 

\----------------------------

Howard wakes up in the middle of the ruin he was in the hypnoses session. He hyperventilate, he panics. Then he get a hold of himself and calm down. He sits, and looks, he’s still in his pyjama. The faceless monsters are not there… It’s the silence, except for the faraway waves… 

The author turns around and cries out of terror, Cthulhu looks at him. The monster makes shadow to the American from his eight feet. Howard tries to not glance at the eyes, nor at the beast itself. He can’t run, he’s paralysed in terror. He makes a loud whines or sheer fear when the beats grabs his arm and pulls him closer. Howard feels on the brink of fainting when the tentacles brush his face. He shouts incoherent phrases and insults when the beast lifts his arms and then slimy tentacle wraps his hands. A wave of water soaks him from head to feet. He lose his breath as the cold water hits him. Cthulhu’s tentacle slides on his neck and back, Howard shivers. His head covered in the face and appendage of the monster, it smells blood, carcass and the sea. He tries to struggle inside this slimy hell, but it doesn’t give anything, and Howard fear of being eaten by the monster.  
Lovecraft’s legs begin to shake and soon hyperventilate. The tentacles slides farther in his back. He takes a loud breath when Cthulhu liberate his head. His appendages slides on the American’s torso. The author tries to go away, but the beast is too strong, it look like it want to eat his torso. He closes his eyes and hopes to wake up, to yell so someone would come wake him up.  
The hands of the monster makes the author jumps. The huge hand scratch his shoulder, before pulling his hair and he falls on the ground, in one feet of cold water, while the winged beast stay on him. 

What does it want!? Why does it torments him? Why is he stuck in such a nightmare?

Lovecraft can’t stop looking at his eyes. With trembling arms, he covers them with his hands. He gasp when he feels covered in water again, in a torrent. He clutches his fingers on the monster, holding on him to not be taken away by the waves and icy water. His clothes are ripped off him, now Howard feels too vulnerable at his taste, in Adam clothe before the dreaded monster.  
The author whimpers when a huge hand is slam on his torso. His legs tremble of fear and cold. The tentacles slides and runs his skin, he shudders at their touch, he turns his head and a tentacle decide to come do suction on his neck. Cthulhu makes a low growl and spreads its wings.  
Lovecraft whimpers and struggles like it burns when his legs are spread. Does the monster want to tear him in two? Pull off his legs until he’s in two part, his guts and blood mixing with the water and then eat him? Howard’s head spins in terror. He loses his breath when another wave of cold water hits him. 

Howard shouts and insults the beats when the tentacle are a bit too enterprising for him. He arches his back at the cold touch on his crotch. He clenches his teeth and scratches the cuttlefish head of the monster. His jaw falls open and he freezes when a slimy appendage nudges his entrance. He never thought something should go there, but it’s pushing and twisting his way inside him. Lovecraft let a long shout of despair when it slides past his entrance. It’s cold and slimy and it violates him on many level.  
The author begins to feel all his muscles loose strength, he soon will lose the will to fight, he feel so weak compared to it. He has been struggling since the beginning, Cthulhu doesn’t want to let him go… He makes a whimper when a second tentacle tries its way in. Howard bites the monster’s arm as another wave of water covers him. The beast over him doesn’t flinch at the water or at the bite, it just look at Lovecraft like some sort of animal. The author tries to calm his breath, hyperventilation won’t help. He stops breathing when the tentacles inside moves and spread him, he whines and tries to get them out, but the beast gets his hands away.  
Howard shouts against the monster and insults it again. The huge hands of the green beast grabs his legs and spread them further. The monster groans and mutters things, folly things Lovecraft doesn’t want to understand or hear. He closes his eyes and blushes of embarrassment. He gets apprehensive for what’s to come, his terror grow and eats his guts. The author gulps with difficulty and begins to shake intensely when he feels something, much bigger than the tentacles, on his entrance. He lifts his eyelids and sees its eyes. He feels numb, he almost lose consciousness, he floats between reality and sleep. He doesn’t even shout when the monster’s appendage thrust inside him, but the pain pulls him back in his body.  
Howard realises what’s happening. He trembles and struggles. Another wave of icy water hits him and his body becomes numb of pain and coldness.

Lovecraft breathe more easily and Cthulhu begins to move. He moans of pain, he feels its… he feels its phallus moving inside him. He doesn’t dare looking down to confirm it, in fear of seeing a claw pulling out his intestine. He shudders and could vomit from the fact he feels it rubbing his inner walls, stretching him painfully, inside him… Thrusting in and out with obscene wet sound. Howard doesn’t know why he’s not awake by now, he knows it’s a nightmare… He whimpers at a harsh thrust inside him, the tentacles begins to slides on him again. He feels them gripping him tightly, bruising, and pulling, grasping each piece of skin they can. His own cock is wrapped in the slimy appendage, tighten and suction on by the tentacles.  
Lovecraft let a muffled moan when Cthulhu grabs him in his hand and says things in another language, slamming inside him with force. The American feels his body warming up at the unknown paroles of the winged beast. Everything become hazy and blurred, he loses sense of direction. The heat radiate from his stomach and the friction inside him become painless and does make him arch his back. His legs get goosebumps at a good thrust inside him. He turns his head from right to left and he soon begins to push his hips against the monster. He sweat now, he pants. He’s not aware of what he’s doing, but he wants… He drinks the elder god’s words and chant. He moans as the tentacles slides on his bare body. 

Howard looks at Cthulhu’s eyes, he stare at them and lifts his back to kiss on of them. His lips brushes the eyelid of the monster before he feels his orgasm being rip off him. He moan as his muscles contract, while pleasure overwhelm his mind in this hell… 

The author slumps back once his orgasm finish and it brought him to reality. He could almost shouts of horror to what happened, but instead, he choke on his breath when Cthulhu jerks his hips. He feels it, every inch inside him, rubbing, by the monster that’s slowly taking his sanity. Lovecraft tries to struggle, but the tentacle grips him and twist his limps in uncomfortable position. He clench his teeth and waits until the beast finish. Deep hard thrusts, one after another, Howard loses the sense of time, but after what seems an eternity, the beast finally pulls out. 

Howard takes a loud breath from finally being liberated. He jumps and shivers at Cthulhu’s shouts in the air, like a victory. A wave of water, bigger than the other overwhelms the American. Lovecraft sees one last time Cthulhu’s eyes before drowning inside the water. 

\------------------------------

Howard wakes up and cough salty water. He’s roughly lifts by some men, policemen. He’s on the beach. He looks around in heavy confusion. He’s thrown inside a car. All is buzzing, his head pound with a painful headache. 

After maybe what feels like an hour, he’s drag inside a building. They throws him inside a white room… Howard looks up… H-He’s in the mental institute. Blood goes out his head and despair fills him. 

A nurse come around after hour to give him some soup. He looks in it, the soup reflect his image, misshape with the monster’s face… He throws the soup away. 

Later, the psychiatrist enter his room. 

\- Mister Lovecraft… You’re night terrors are out of control your dreams and nightmares are consuming you. We’ll treat you today. 

\- What happened? Asks the author.

\- They found you unconscious on the beach, you were full of bruises and muttering non-sense. Your aunt will come to see you, I’ve called her. She gave the authorization for the treatment.

\- W-what is it…?

\- A leucotomy, or lobotomy if you prefer you’ll see, you’ll…

\- NO! 

\- Mister Lovecraft, don’t let yourself like that, it’s for your good. You won’t have those terror after. 

\- No, please! I beg you! There should be so…

\- I tell you, it’s going to be fine. One experienced doctor in lobotomy will operate you. Nurse! 

\- NO! 

Howard struggles against the nurses and guards like a demon in holy water. Unfortunately, they strap him on a stretcher and bring him to another room where a nurse with an electroshock machine is waiting for him. 

\- Sir, stay calm. I’m going to induce an electroshock to make you fall unconscious before the operation. You wouldn’t like to feel the icepick. Bite on that. It might sting a bit, but only for a second or two. Said the nurse.

\- Please! No! Begs Lovecraft. 

The tissue is forcefully inserted inside Howard’s mouth and he feels sheer dread and terror slowly poisoning his mind. He shouts in desperation when the nurse pull the lever down… 

\----------------------------------

 _‘’If I am mad, it is mercy! May the gods pity the man who in his callousness can remain sane to the hideous end!’’_  
H.P Lovecraft


End file.
